


It's in the water

by Sneery69



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Drabble, Jared's perspective, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 15:10:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3330488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneery69/pseuds/Sneery69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared didn't want to know any of it. Jared wanted to know all of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's in the water

**Author's Note:**

> It's 3 am and I regret nothing.

Jared isn’t sure when it started. Maybe it didn’t start until very recently or maybe he only now began to notice.

It was a stupid thing, really. They had all been out to celebrate, and Jared had been just as drunk as everyone else. Somebody, probably Misha, had decided that it was a perfect night for vodka shots, and there went everyone’s sanity right out of the window.

The curious thing is that Jared’s mind gets a bit more than strange when drunk. He thinks stuff sometimes – stuff that he wouldn't touch with a stick outside of his alcoholic haze, and he notices things that will seem like a dream the next day.

Misha had been saying something, something trivial yet interesting, one of these facts about clouds or mice or freaking dinosaurs that he liked to pull out of nowhere. For no real reason, Jared’s eyes had kind of rested on Jensen, though. 

‘Maybe they shouldn’t have,’ Jared thinks. Maybe his eyes shouldn’t have been drawn to Jensen like that. But there’s just something about alcohol and his brain. It’s nothing.

Anyway, Jensen had been behaving strangely. Jared watched his throat for some reason, and he’d just… swallow too frequently, usually when Misha licked his lips, or when his voice dropped too deep. Jensen would tilt his head far to the left whenever Misha spoke without actually turning towards him, and the few times Misha leant across him to do something or other, Jensen would blush or stammer, or, even more ridiculous, actually start to fidget.

So Jared’s wasted mind kind of noticed these things, and, miraculously, drew some conclusions that he even remembered the next day.

Actually, what Jared thought back then was, ‘Nope. Stupid alcohol. Never gonna erase the thought from my mind.’

But these things somehow kept happening. Misha’s eyes would seem just this tiny bit too dark around Jensen, his behavior just a bit off, just a bit too predictable for someone so wild and insane. Jensen would react unfailingly; stuttering, blinking, slow bites on his lower lip. And there was a surprising amount of touching going on, now that he paid attention.

Jared doesn’t want to know about this. He doesn’t want to wonder if anything ever happened between them, and if yes, when and where and how. He doesn’t want to lie awake at night pondering if Danneel knew, or Vicky - doesn’t want to ask himself why Jensen never said anything, never admitted anything.

But now that he knows, it’s everywhere, and it almost seems ridiculously obvious to him. Misha isn’t that careless, but Jensen’s nervousness, his giddiness, his freaking happiness really say it all. 

And in one of these depressing nights that are filled with alcohol, Jared admits to himself that, yes, he wants to know. He wants to know all about it, wants someone to talk to him, wants to know if they kissed, if it was gentle or heated. He burns to picture if they had sex, could bet that Misha would fuck Jensen instead of the other way around, can see it clearly behind his closed eye lids, how Jensen would twist and moan and sometimes beg.

Even Jared’s piss drunk mind refuses to draw certain conclusions from that, and he’s grateful the next morning, grateful that he’s only got the hangover to deal with.

‘Shit,’ he thinks, ‘Shit. When did this happen.’


End file.
